Snowbound
by SupernaturalGeek
Summary: Tempers flare when the boys are stranded at a motel in a snowstorm. Slight spoilers up to Season 2.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: This was supposed to be a quick one-shot, partly inspired I think by watching Jensen & Jared messing around in the snow in the Season 1 Gag Reel! But then **Heather03nmg **asked for a multi-chapter fic, and promised cookies, so... _

_Thanks must also go to **Brennan** and **Ziggy** for the constant encouragement when I'm writing – it really does help:) _

_So anyway – here's the story.. Which will be over a few chapters after all! _

"Well this sucks."

Dean's statement was accompanied by a disgusted shake of his head as he stared out of the motel room window, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. He glared at the view, as if that could somehow change it. Which of course it couldn't.

Sam looked up from the laptop and sighed. They'd only been here a few hours and already Dean was climbing the walls. This was gonna be a long few days.

They'd been hoping to outrun the snowstorm local radio stations had been warning about for days, but as usual luck wasn't on their side and it had hit fast and hard. Sam was just glad Dean was a good enough driver that they hadn't ended up in a ditch somewhere. After an hour spent driving through what could only be described as the mother of all blizzards they'd managed to spot the sign for the motel, barely visible under a thick layer of snow. They'd pulled into the parking lot gratefully, Dean having to practically prise his fingers off the steering wheel he'd been gripping it so hard.

That had been 2 hours ago and since then the snow had just kept on coming. Now the Impala was barely visible, just a car-shaped lump of snow. The motel manager had kindly given them several tupperware boxes of food to be heated in the microwave in their room. He'd insisted, saying it was clear no one would be going anywhere for a while and he'd been stocking up ready for it. Clearly this was a regular occurrence in this part of the country.

So they had food, coffee and a nice warm room. And unfortunately for Sam, a very bored Dean. Closing the laptop he sat back and gave Dean his full attention.

"You know you may as well at least sit down, Dean. Staring at the snow is not gonna make it stop you know."

Dean turned to face him, rolling his eyes.

"Gee, ya think Sam? And here was me hoping _that _could be my freaky psychic power."

"Cute. You gonna be like this the whole time we're stuck here? Cos with this amount of snow, I could easily bury your body and no one would find it for months." said Sam, dryly.

Dean glared at him. "Hilarious Sammy. It's not my fault stuck in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do except stare at your ugly mug is not my idea of fun."

Sam rolled his eyes and ignored the comment, getting up to see what the manager had given them for food. It was a while since they'd last eaten and his stomach was starting to growl.

"Ok, so you want stew – I think that's what it is – or lasagne?" he said, glancing over his shoulder at Dean.

Dean shrugged. "Whatever you want." he said with total disinterest.

Biting his tongue and reminding himself of all the reasons he should _not_ kill his only brother, Sam picked the lasagne and put the container in the microwave.

Minutes later the food was ready. Sam split the portion in half and handed a plate and fork to Dean. Sitting down and tucking into his own plate, he watched Dean poke at the lasagne with a slightly disgusted look on his face.

Sam sighed. "Now what?" he said.

Dean glanced at him. "Nothing. Just not a huge lasagne fan." he said.

Sam waved his fork at Dean in exasperation. "Then we coulda had the stew, Dean! That was the whole point of asking what you wanted."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Alright Francis, don't get your panties in a knot! I didn't fancy either of them, ok?"

"Well it's a lot better than what we usually eat – you were the one complaining about only eating stuff heated in shop microwave the other day."

"Right, and this was heated in..?" said Dean dryly and Sam glared at him.

"Fine, whatever. Look you don't want it, don't eat it. But there's sure as hell nothing else on offer, unless you plan on a hike through the blizzard."

Dean snorted, but said nothing. Sam went back to his own food, stabbing the lasagne with slightly more force than was necessary.

"You know you used to be the one always complaining about food when we were kids."

Sam looked up with a 'what the hell?' expression on his face. Dean just shrugged.

"I'm just saying, that's all. You were a pretty fussy eater. And a pain in the ass."

"Ok, first off I was a kid, Dean. You are supposed to be an adult, in case no one pointed that out by the way. And secondly? We hardly had much choice from what I remember. Can you blame me for wanting a proper meal now and then?"

Dean raised his eyebrows. "What's that supposed to mean? Is this gonna be another rant about what a crappy childhood you had? Cos we haven't had one of _those _for about 5 minutes."

Sam glared at him. "Right, I was forgetting – you and I had the best childhood in the world. Like something out of a Disney movie. Is that what you want me to say, Dean?" he said, the words dripping with sarcasm.

Dean glared back. "Don't start Sam."

"Hey, you're the one who started it. I was just trying to enjoy my food, you're the one who had to bring our childhood into it."

"Yeah, and you're the one who always makes out like you had the most deprived childhood in the world! Dad did his best, ok? It wasn't his fault we were moving around so much." said Dean, heatedly.

Sam snorted. "Right, not Dad's fault. Whose fault was it then? He could have stopped somewhere, just while we were growing up. I mean would it have killed him for us to have a normal house, go to a school for more than one year at a time, actually have a proper kitchen with real food in it?"

"He was tracking the demon Sam! You remember, the demon? Nasty fella, glowing yellow eyes, gotta thing for trying to wipe out our family! Ringing any bells?"

"Hilarious, Dean and for the record? Look how well that turned out! He never got near the thing until it was too late."

Dean threw his hands up in the air. "Oh, so now that's Dad's fault too? You wanna blame Jess's death on him?"

"No! That is NOT what I said! I'm saying that we didn't always have to be on the road all the time, not when we were that age! We'd already lost Mom, maybe it would have been nice to have a proper home at least instead of one crappy motel room after another!"

"They weren't all crappy, Sam!" said Dean and Sam raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

"They weren't, ok? You don't remember everything, Sam. Dad did his best!"

"Yeah, well sometimes his best sucked." said Sam and Dean gave him a look that made Sam seriously wonder if he was gonna end this night with his face intact.

"You know you might want to consider something, when you're busy bitching about what an awful childhood you had. Dad was hunting, a lot, as I'm sure you're all too keen to point out next. He didn't do most of the raising with you, that was me. So who do you think you just insulted there Sammy? Cos it sure as hell wasn't Dad!"

With that Dean got up and stormed out the door before Sam could even react.

"Shit!" muttered Sam, rubbing his hands over his face. Looking up he belatedly realised Dean hadn't even grabbed his jacket from where it was hanging by the door. Getting up, he looked out of the window and saw it was still snowing and Dean was nowhere to be seen.

Resting his head on the glass, Sam closed his eyes briefly in frustration. This was gonna be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean was so mad that he didn't even notice the snow or the biting cold at first. He moved fast, his long strides taking him across the parking lot and into the woods in seconds.

Why did Sam always have to make out like they had the worst childhood in the world? Dean had done his best, and it hadn't exactly been easy. Their Dad was always so focused on hunting, he sometimes seemed to forget that Dean and Sam were only kids. Dean had always tried to be the hunter in training he knew John wanted, while at the same time trying to make sure Sam at least got to be as 'normal' as possible. Yeah, sometimes they'd ended up stuck in a motel room for days when John got delayed on a hunt, but that wasn't his fault. These things happened and Sam should be able to understand that, now he had experience with hunting. But Dean had always made sure Sam was never even aware when John was overdue and he'd tried to keep him occupied, making sure he got to play games and do all the stuff kids normally did. Had he really done such a bad job? He knew as Sam got older he was unhappy with the lifestyle they lead, that he'd wanted out of hunting, but when he was a kid he'd seemed happy enough. Now he found himself second guessing every decision and he shook his head in frustration.

"Dammit, Sam!" he muttered under his breath. It was at that moment that he finally took notice of his surroundings and realised that a) he had no idea where he was going and b) he'd left his coat in the room.

"Perfect. This day just keeps getting better." he said out loud.

Sighing he realised that it would do no good to end up lost or with hypothermia, and he turned round to head back to the motel room. He didn't really feel like dealing with Sam right now but getting into trouble wouldn't help matters. Maybe he'd just take a long, hot shower and try and calm down. Which would have the added bonus of course of using up all the hot water before Sam got there.

Grinning evilly at his plan, Dean didn't notice the log buried under the snow until it was too late. Moments later he found himself on his back in the cold, wet snow, having rolled for several seconds down a bank he hadn't noticed on the way out.

He lay there briefly, the air knocked out of him for a second. It was the mirrors. It had to be the mirrors. It was the only explanation for the sheer volume of bad luck they seemed to accumulate. The next time someone had a Bloody Mary to vanquish? They were on their own.

Feeling the snow starting to seep through his shirt, Dean sighed and sat up. He hissed as he moved his right leg and felt his knee protest the movement. Looking down he saw a dark patch on his jeans that looked like blood, and when he rolled the material up he found a jagged gash that must have come from some unseen rock.

He hung his head briefly for a second, wondering what else could possibly go wrong between here and the motel room. Deciding to face his fate head on, he got up and started walking again. His knee throbbed but didn't feel too badly damaged. Maybe he was getting a break after all.

A few minutes later the motel came back into view. Dean noticed it was getting dark already and he was glad he'd not let his temper get the better of him and had actually made the sensible decision to turn back.

Sam had been pacing the room trying to decide if he should go after Dean, when suddenly the door opened. Startled he whirled round and saw his brother stomp into the room, shaking snow from his hair as he did so.

Sam sagged a little as he let out a relieved breath. He could see Dean's clothes were wet and as he looked down he saw a stain that appeared to be blood on Dean's right leg.

Dean bent down to unlace his boots and kicked them off. He had yet to say anything and his whole demeanour still screamed that he was pissed at Sam. Sam swallowed, knowing things had gotten out of hand before. Deciding to make the first move, he stepped a little nearer to Dean.

"Hey – you ok?" he said quietly.

Dean looked up and glared at him.

"Oh yeah, I'm terrific Sam. Now I'm pissed _and_ cold and wet. I'm just having the perfect day."

Ok, this wasn't gonna be easy. Still wanting to know if Dean was really alright, Sam plowed on.

"What happened to your knee?" he said, indicating the stain.

Dean looked down and let out a frustrated sigh.

"I fell over a log. Rolled down a bank and must have hit a stone or something. It's just a gash." he said.

Sam felt his lips twitch and desperately tried to keep a straight face. Unfortunately Dean chose that particular moment to look back up at him. He raised his eyebrows.

"Something funny?" he said, almost daring Sam to grin.

"No, uh, nothing funny. Just, you know. Glad it's not serious." said Sam, still trying to control the grin that was threatening to break out.

"You sure? Cos you look like you want to laugh. You know, at me – your brother, who you sent out into the snow with your pissy mood." said Dean, his voice dangerously calm.

The twitch was now a full blown grin. "No, you're right. It's not funny – and totally my fault. And I'm sure you were.." Sam tailed off, fighting the urge to actually laugh now.

"You're sure I was what?"

"I'm sure you were totally graceful. And coordinated. When you were going head over heels down the bank" said Sam.

Dean glared at him, which only made things worse. Sam was trying so hard to get the image of his brother cartwheeling through the snow out of his head, but it wasn't working. And the glaring was just making it worse.

Dean literally couldn't believe it as he watched Sam dissolve into laughter. Maybe it wasn't too late to have him adopted.

"You're such an ass." he said, pushing past Sam and stomping into the bathroom. He slammed the door behind him with enough force to rattle the walls.

Sam sat down on the bed, wiping the tears off his face. Ok, so that had not been the best way to get back into Dean's good books but he hadn't been able to help it. Maybe it was hysteria at the relief of Dean coming back in one piece for once. Well, almost one piece.

Vowing to make it up to his brother by at least taking care of his knee when he got out of the shower, Sam grabbed the first aid kit out of their bag. As he did so, a sudden thought occurred to him. Dean was in the bathroom, in the shower, and he was pissed at Sam.

Sam sighed. He was so having a cold shower tonight..

_Author's note: Hope you're all enjoying it! I know some people were worried it was going to be along the lines of 'hurt Dean in the snow' and Sam rescuing him, like a few others that have been done, but that wasn't my intention.. This is hopefully going to be more about Dean & Sam working out some issues.. And maybe having a little fun, later on! Anyway.. I'll shut up now..._


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Dean finally stepped out of the shower he was lovely and warm again. Grinning at the fact the water was now what could only be described as lukewarm, he switched the shower off and dried himself with the towel. Checking out his knee he saw that the gash had almost stopped bleeding and although the area around was starting to turn a lovely shade of purple, it didn't hurt too bad when he bent it. Given the way his luck was lately, it could have been much worse.

Opening the bathroom door and letting out a cloud of steam, he grabbed some clothes from his bag and shut the door again as he got changed. When he emerged a second time, Sam was sat on the bed watching him a little warily.

"Hey. Feel better?" he said cautiously.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Well, I'm warm again. Wouldn't necessarily go as far as _better_." he said dryly.

Sam winced. Yep – definitely still pissed.

"Look, I'm sorry I laughed before ok? It's just you're never normally clumsy and I got the image stuck in my head and.." he tailed off. Dean's expression wasn't changing and he was aware he was somehow digging himself an even bigger hole. Mentally throwing down the shovel, he decided on a different approach.

"How about you let me take a look at your knee," he said trying to sound contrite.

Dean shook his head. "There's no need, I told you – it's just a scratch."

"Please?" said Sam, not above turning on the puppy dog eyes.

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam's hopeful expression, but he never had been able to resist it.

"Fine, go ahead." he said grudgingly, sitting down on the bed.

Sam flashed him a grateful smile, and Dean recognised that part of Sam was probably trying to make it up to him for laughing at his misfortune. Not that he was in the mood to forgive just yet.

Sam knelt on the floor and pulled Dean's trouser leg up, wincing as he saw the gash and the bruise that was quickly developing.

"Ouch. That looks pretty painful." he said sounding guilty.

Dean shrugged. "It's not that bad."

Sam raised his eyebrows, knowing Dean would give that patented response even if he was sat there with his leg hanging off at the knee. Reminding himself that they did not need another argument right now, he let it go and instead concentrated on taking care of things.

A few minutes later the gash had been cleaned with antiseptic, smeared with cream and Sam had insisted on wrapping it, much to Dean's chagrin. Muttering about 'overreactions' Dean got up and went over to the coffee machine. The pot was stone cold, so he set about making some fresh, all the while aware of Sam's gaze following him round the room.

As he waited for the water to boil he finally turned round to face Sam.

"You want to take a picture, Sammy? It'll last longer." he said exasperatedly.

Sam flushed but didn't look away.

"I was just waiting for you to finish" he said, indicating the coffee.

Dean glanced from Sam to the pot and back again.

"You that desperate for caffeine, Francis?" he said.

Sam glared at the nickname. "_No_, I wanted to talk to you." he said.

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Oh God, kill me now would you? Whatever it is I am not in the mood for talking, Sam." he said firmly.

"You're never in the mood for talking, Dean. But we can't just leave things as they are."

"Why not? Works for me."

"Yeah, well it doesn't work for me! We always let this stuff build up and build up, until we end up with this big blowout and you doing something stupid like hiking off into the snow without a jacket!" said Sam, heatedly.

Dean blinked at him. Sam replayed the last sentence in his head and winced as a little voice helpfully told him this was not a good way to get Dean in a caring and sharing mood. It was however a good way to get himself a smack in the face.

"Ah, when I say stupid I mean of course perfectly understandable under the circumstances." said Sam quickly.

Dean snorted. "Sure, that's what you meant. I can see how easy it is to confuse the words 'stupid' and 'understandable' when you haven't got a dictionary in your hand."

Sam closed his eyes briefly, wondering why trying to talk to his brother always made him feel like someone was drilling into his skull.

Dean turned his attention back to the coffee, giving Sam a chance to try and work out how to get things back on track before one of them ended up throttling the other.

Dean for his part was happy to just wait until Sam let the whole thing go. He _so _was not in the mood for one of Sam's 'Dr Phil' moments.

Pouring out two cups of coffee he turned round and handed one to Sam. Sam glanced at him in surprise, half expecting to be wearing the thing instead of drinking it, but then he realised that was Dean all over. However mad he got at Sam, he could never switch off that whole 'taking care of' thing that he'd been doing for so long.

"Thanks." said Sam genuinely and Dean just nodded. It was just a cup of coffee, it wasn't permission to start talking.

Unfortunately Sam didn't appear to have received that memo.

"What I said before, about when we were kids," he began.

Dean groaned and dropped his head back against the headboard with a thud.

"Sam!" he said, warning clear in his voice, but Sam ignored it.

"It came out wrong, ok?"

Dean sighed. "Fine. You didn't mean it. Wonderful. Now can we drop it?"

Sam shook his head. " No, because I know you're just saying that to get me to shut up." he said.

"Not working though is it?" muttered Dean, just loud enough for Sam to hear.

Sam just looked at him, patiently waiting to get Dean's full attention. His expression made it painfully clear he could do this all night if he had to.

Dean finally threw his hands up in the air in frustration.

"Fine! God you are _so_ annoying. You wanna talk, go ahead – you have my undivided attention, Sammy."

Sam ignored the name that he knew was designed to annoy him into forgetting what he was about to say, and sat forward with his arms resting on his knees.

"I didn't say we had the worst childhood in the world, Dean. And that wasn't what I meant to imply. I just wish it could have been a little different, that's all. I can't help it, I missed having a permanent home, staying in one town for longer than 5 minutes. I missed being able to stand up and tell the class what we'd really done at the weekend, instead of having to make something up because telling a class of 8 year olds that you'd helped your Dad and Brother exorcise an evil spirit would have got me taken away by the men in white coats."

Dean sighed. He understood what Sam was saying, he might even agree with him about some of it, but wishing things had been different was a waste of time. You couldn't change the past, so what was the point?

Before Dean could say anything though, Sam continued.

"I know Dad did his best, and despite what I said before, I do kind of understand. But it shouldn't have been like that, Dean. It wasn't fair, and to you most of all."

Dean looked at him in surprise.

"What are you talking about?"

"You said it yourself, you were the one who practically raised me. And you were just a kid yourself. When did you get a chance to just have fun, mess about with your friends, do what _you_ wanted to do? You were always looking after me, or helping Dad with the hunting. You never got to be a child, Dean, and that's what makes me sad." said Sam quietly.

Dean sighed and rubbed his neck, looking uncomfortable.

"Look, it wasn't that bad you know. I liked hunting, remember? It felt good, being able to help Dad out. And I didn't mind taking care of you either, even when you were a pain in the ass. You were my brother – it's what I'm here for." he said simply.

Sam felt a rush of emotions at Dean's simple statement. Taking care of his brother was not all that Dean was there for, but a lifetime of having 'take care of your brother' drilled into his head meant Dean couldn't see that.

"That is not what you are here for, Dean. You deserve a life of your own, man. You always put everyone else first, especially me and Dad. Who takes care of you, Dean? Who puts you first?"

Dean flushed. "Come on, Sam! I don't need anyone to take care of me, I'm fine." he said.

Sam looked at him with a mix of exasperation and affection.

"I never said you _needed _it but just because you can take care of yourself doesn't mean you have to. I wish you'd understand that that's what I'm here for too. This brother thing is a two way street, Dean. I can't possibly repay you for everything you've done for me over the years, but now I'm older I can at least return the favour. But you're so stubborn, you won't let me. And that's why I get frustrated. It hurts me watching you try and deal with everything on your own. Can you understand that?"

Dean sighed. He could understand it – he'd felt the same way watching Sam trying to deal with Jess's death on his own. But that didn't mean he could just change the habits of a lifetime. He did appreciate what Sam was trying to say though.

"Look, I get it ok? You want to help, and I appreciate that, but you gotta understand Sam I'm used to dealing with stuff in my own way. You can't just expect me to suddenly change that."

"I'm not. I'm just asking you to let me help, even if it's only now and again."

Dean thought about it. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad.

"Fine – I'll do my best. That's all I can offer." he said.

Sam grinned at him. "That's all I'm asking for."

"Wonderful. Now can we _please _change the subject?" said Dean desperately.

Sam chuckled. It was almost amusing how Dean would rather face an army of demons than actually talk about anything with his brother.

"Fine. There was just one more thing though."

Dean groaned. "You're trying to kill me aren't you?"

Sam ignored the comment and moved so he was now sitting on Dean's bed. His brother eyed him warily.

"I wanted to say thank you. For everything. All the stuff when we were kids, everything you've done for me. I know I can get a little wound up about stuff sometimes, but I don't want you to ever think that I don't appreciate what you've done for me. Because I do. I wouldn't be who I am today without you and I need you to know I understand that."

Dean held Sam's gaze, blinking to clear vision that was suddenly blurry. Sam's words washed away the hurt he'd felt earlier and gave him a warmth that settled deep inside. Not trusting his voice, he nodded and Sam smiled, his own eyes suspiciously bright. Dean's next words effectively killed the moment stone dead though.

"Don't even think about hugging me, Sammy. I'm not kidding – I have a knife under my pillow, remember? A big knife. A big, sharp knife. It would be a shame for me to have raised you this far only to have to kill you now."

Sam snorted and rolled his eyes. Trust Dean to stop things getting too deep. He pushed Dean's knee with his elbow, making sure it wasn't the bad one.

"Hey, who said I even wanted to hug you? You're the one who brought that up, not me." he said smugly.

Dean stared at him in outrage. "Oh, only because you had that sappy look on your face!" he said indignantly.

"Yeah, yeah – whatever, man. You can deny it all you want but you were totally after a chick-flick moment there." said Sam.

Dean briefly considered the throwing distance between him and Sam, then forced himself to dismiss the idea.

"In your dreams Sam. You're the emo-Winchester, not me."

"Whatever."

Silence briefly reigned for a moment, Dean busy plotting all the ways he could get back at his brother and Sam enjoying how annoyed Dean was getting. It was a little payback for the cold shower he was about to have.

As Sam grabbed some clothes from his bag, he realised his toiletries bag must have found it's way into the other one.

"Hey Dean – could you throw me my wash bag?" he said, not looking up from what he was doing.

That was of course his first mistake, as seconds later the bag came flying through the air and hit him smack on the head.

"Ow! Hey!" he said, looking up at Dean who was grinning innocently at him.

"What? It's not my fault you got slow reactions there, Princess."

"Jerk" said Sam, shaking his now aching head.

"Bitch" said Dean, still grinning.

As Sam went into the bathroom, an idea occurred to him. Suddenly looking forward to the next day, he smiled. This was gonna be fun..

_Author's note: So that's the deep stuff over with! Next chapter will be onto the fun.. Thanks for sticking with it:)_


	4. Chapter 4

Sam woke first the next morning and was pleased to see that the snow had finally stopped at last. Everything was white and sparkling in the early morning sun and he smiled. Perfect.

Dressing quickly he put the coffee on and set about waking his brother, who was still dead to the world.

"Hey Dean – wake up, man."

His only response was a grunt as Dean buried further under the covers. Sam grinned and pulled the covers back, ignoring the stream of curses this prompted. Dean opened his eyes and glared at Sam.

"What the hell do you want, Sam!" he growled.

"It's morning – time to get up, sunshine." said Sam cheerfully.

Dean squinted at the window and back at Sam.

"You and I have such different definitions of morning. What time is it?"

"A little after 6.30."

Dean rolled his eyes and burrowed back into his pillow.

"Wake me up when it's a normal hour of the day, Sammy." he said. Sam was having none of it though.

"Oh no you don't – come on Dean, you're gonna waste the best part of the day!"

"I'm gonna waste you in a minute." muttered Dean, finally giving in and stumbling out of bed.

10 minutes later he emerged from the bathroom looking slightly more awake but still less than pleased to be up so early. Sam ignored the glare Dean was giving him and grinned.

"Feel better?" he said cheerfully.

"No – why the hell are you so cheerful anyway?" said Dean, eyeing him suspiciously.

"What's not to be cheerful about? It's not my fault you always wake up grumpy." he said.

"I do NOT wake up grumpy!" said Dean indignantly. "I just need my caffeine that's all."

"Well then you'll be wanting this won't you?" said Sam, waving a steaming mug of coffee in Dean's direction.

Dean grabbed it and inhaled the steam, sighing happily.

"Thanks, Sammy – maybe I won't kill you after all." he said.

"I'm touched." said Sam dryly and Dean smirked.

"Hey, you said it little brother."

Sam rolled his eyes but let Dean finish his coffee in peace. The motel manager had given them some bread and butter to go with the tubs of food, so Sam made toast which they ate in companionable silence. When they were done, Sam stood up determinedly.

"Right – so, you ready to go outside?" he said.

Dean frowned at him. "What do you mean, go outside? In case you hadn't noticed it's like -5 out there, Sam! Not to mention being knee deep in snow."

"Exactly." said Sam, grinning at his brother like this should make perfect sense.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Ok, you've definitely cracked Sammy – I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about making the most of the snow, Dean – it's not like we can go anywhere yet, so why not take the time to relax a little? I mean when was the last time you made a snowman?"

Dean looked at him. "Dude, seriously – what are you, eight? Build a snowman? Come on Sam!"

"Why not? It's fun Dean – you remember fun, don't you?"

"Yeah I remember fun, but playing in the snow has never been on my list of 'fun' Sam."

"Well, it is now." said Sam firmly. Dean stared at him, shaking his head.

"You cannot be serious."

"Oh I'm definitely serious. Don't tell me you're afraid of a little bit of snow, are you?" said Sam, smirking.

Dean glared at him. "Of course I'm not 'afraid' of snow it's just a really stupid idea."

"Ok, if it bothers you that much.."

"I didn't say it bothered me!" said Dean indignantly.

Sam just stood there, grinning at him. Finally Dean threw his arms up in the air.

"Oh, fine – I'm never gonna hear the end of this am I? Since you're so hung up on this, lets go play in the snow."

"I knew you'd see it my way." said Sam, pulling on his boots and grabbing his coat.

"I must be insane." muttered Dean, shaking his head as he put on his own boots and coat.

Sam's enthusiasm was kind of infectious though and Dean could feel his lips twitching as he followed his brother out of the motel room.

The cold air hit them like a slap and Dean shivered, pulling his coat tighter round himself. He had to admit it was a gorgeous day though and surrounded by pristine, untouched, glittering snow it was almost magical.

Naturally there was some argument to begin with about exactly the best way to build a snowman, which threatened to degenerate into a proper fight at one point before they both realised how ridiculous it was and sheepishly agreed to just get on with it.

They made the body together, building it up gradually until in the end it was practically as tall as them. Next came the head and finally the snowman stood there in all it's glory. They'd been out there a couple of hours by then, so Sam went back in to make some more coffee while Dean added the finishing touches. By the time he came back out with two steaming mugs, Dean was done. Sam stepped round it to hand Dean his coffee and as he did so he got a first look at the front of it.

"I don't believe it." he said, shaking his head.

"What?" said Dean and Sam looked at him.

"You made a _demon _snowman Dean?"

"Oh come on, it's not my fault all I had left for the eyes were M&M's – they just happened to be red ones." he said, the picture of innocence.

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Dude, whatever – you totally made a demon snowman. You're weird, you do know that right?"

"I'm weird? You're the one who wanted to play in the snow. I mean come on Sammy – you're 23 you know." said Dean.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Two words, Dean – _demon _snowman." he said with a smirk.

Dean shoved Sam with his shoulder, who shoved him back. Dean's eyes narrowed, and then took on a dangerous glint. Sam stared at him warily and then took a step back.

"Oh no – no, Dean! I'm drinking here!" he said, still backing up towards the motel room.

"Then I'd drink faster if I was you." said Dean with an evil grin. Putting down his now empty mug, he began picking up handfuls of snow.

Sam gulped the last of his coffee and just had time to put down the mug before a giant snowball hit him smack in the side of his head.

Spitting out snow, he turned round to glare at Dean.

"Oh, you are SO going to regret that, man!" he said.

Dean just smirked at him, arms wide. "Bring it on, Princess." he said.

Half an hour later they were both soaking wet and totally out of breath. They were pretty evenly matched in terms of direct hits and as they ran round, laughing and yelling, Sam literally felt the years melt away. It was almost like they were children again, except Sam wasn't sure he could ever remember just taking time to mess around like this. It was almost bittersweet, but for now Sam was just glad to have this time with his brother. Especially after everything they'd been through recently.

As he tried to get out of Dean's way he suddenly slipped on some particularly compacted snow. As he struggled to stay upright he found himself slipping and sliding. It was all in vain though as he ended up flat on his back in the snow. He looked up as he heard Dean's hysterical laughter. Dean was bent over, gasping for breath, as he pointed at his unfortunate brother.

"Oh, man! You should have seen yourself! You looked like Bambi on the ice!"

Sam's glaring only made Dean laugh harder. He briefly wondered if you could actually die from laughing too hard.

He was so busy laughing that he didn't see Sam manage to get to his feet and stalk towards him. Next thing he knew he was suddenly tackled by 6"4 of enraged brother.

"Oof!"

They landed in the snow and immediately began wrestling to get the upper hand. Dean was slightly stronger but Sam had those freakishly long legs and it was an even match.

"Alright, alright! Truce!" said Sam breathlessly, laughing and wheezing at the same time.

Dean was all too happy to agree and they both lay there in the snow, trying to get their breath back.

Dean chuckled. "Oh man – seriously, you should have seen yourself Sammy!"

Sam rolled his eyes and nudged Dean with his elbow. "Yeah, whatever. You didn't look so graceful yourself there a minute ago, Dean." he said dryly.

"Man, if Dad could see us now." Dean said softly.

Sam glanced at him, seeing the wistful look on his face. Wanting to change the subject before things got too melancholy he smiled.

"He'd have probably denied fathering either of us." he said with quiet amusement. Dean glanced at him and then snorted.

"Yeah, you're probably right." he admitted. John never really had been one for 'relaxing'.

A thought occurred to Sam as they lay there.

"Hey Dean – you ever made snow angels?" he said, grinning.

Dean turned to stare at him. "Oh come on! I made a snowman, I kicked your ass in a snowball fight, but snow angels? You gotta be kidding!"

"Oh come on, Dean – I bet you've never made one before have you?" he said.

Dean rolled his eyes. "No, but I bet you have, right geek-boy?"

"Yeah, Jess got me to do it first winter we were together." said Sam softly.

Dean winced, he hadn't meant to stir up bad memories. Feeling a little guilty, he gave in.

"Oh alright then – might as well go the whole nine yards right?"

Sam grinned at him. Getting up he moved so there was a gap between him and Dean.

"You know how it's done, right?" said Sam, smirking.

Dean didn't dignify that with a reply.

"I can't believe I'm about to do this," he muttered. He was just thankful there was no one around to see it. Sam was _so_ going to owe him for this.

Minutes later there were two perfectly symmetrical, Winchester snow angels on the ground. Sam reached down to give Dean a hand up and they both stood there looking at them.

Dean shook his head. "You are such a geek, you do know that?" he said and Sam just grinned at him.

"Come on, admit it Dean – you had fun today."

"Yeah, well. Maybe." said Dean. It was as much as he was gonna admit. The grin he was trying hard to suppress though told Sam all he needed to know about how much Dean had enjoyed their morning in the snow.

"Come on, I'd like to get out of these wet clothes sometime before I get hypothermia." said Dean.

As they walked towards the motel room, Sam was hit by a sudden wave of affection for his brother. Maybe it was something about having spent the morning messing around like kids, or maybe it was just a culmination of everything they'd been through lately, but he felt really close to Dean at that moment. Aware that he was risking bodily harm, he reached out and put his arm round Dean's shoulders as they walked.

Dean turned to look at him and rolled his eyes at the sappy look on Sam's face, but he didn't pull away or shrug Sam's arm off. Truth was he'd really enjoyed himself too and he felt more relaxed than he had in ages.

Things had started off pretty badly but in the end maybe the snow had turned out to be a blessing. They'd cleared the air about stuff that had been building for a while and they'd also had a chance to just relax for once and be the kids they'd never really had the chance to be when they were younger.

A day in the snow wasn't nearly enough to solve all their problems, but it was enough to remind them what was important – that they were brothers. And that, above all else, was something that would never change.

Glancing back over his shoulder for one last look at the snow angels, side by side, Dean smiled.

Yeah. Some things never would change. And that was good enough for him.

_Author's note: So that's it folks! I know that last chapter was a little fluffy, but I just thought the boys needed a chance to let off some steam for a while! Hope you all enjoyed it and thank you SO much to all those kind people who have reviewed. It really does make my day:)_


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